It has been nearly 20 years, 3,400 hits, and five championships since we first met Derek Sanderson Jeter. We have watched him at shortstop, batting mostly second in the order, for seven months at a time. His personal bounty includes being the reigning most eligible bachelor in New York City, living a fantastically wealthy young mans life, enjoying the personal gravitas of an established American icon, and sitting atop the Pantheon of the baseball gods. All considered, I don't feel like I know anything about Derek Jeter the man. By design, I am convinced none of us ever will.
In an age of unparalleled access to celebrities by the masses, Jeter has absolutely mastered the art of anonymity in the limelight. The most you can know about Jeter the man, largely falls within here-say, rumors, and the YES Network party line. The only accurate conclusion you can draw is that Jeter is a man who wishes to dominate his privacy. It is a policy I cannot dismiss as trivial, or shortsighted. The price of celebrity success comes with some sacrifice into the realm of personal domaine. Yet, he has managed to have his cake, and eat it too. He is the legendary icon who has ruled one of the greatest cities on earth for a generation, and yet managed to reveal nothing of himself other than what he expressly desired. That is no small accomplishment in a national media landscape that is eternally vigilant. Clearly, Derek studied his Yankee history well, because he is not the first to pull it off.
When you break down Derek's character legacy, he can only be compared (if any comparison is possible) to Joe DiMaggio. Both men clearly had a distinct vision of how they wanted the world to know them. Each clearly defined their profile of concealed public emotion, unflinching professionalism, occluding their declining skills, and were unrelenting in ever wanting to be seen as truly human. DiMaggio was meticulous regarding the company he kept, maintaining unparalleled standards of secrecy with those whom he associated with intimately. Derek Jeter has a famous policy in his home requiring guests to leave their phones in a bucket at the front door. Jeter is also well known for giving signed memorabilia to his one night romantic encounters. Derek is amazingly coy on matters regarding his more high profile engagements. Likewise, DiMaggio was incredibly protective of Marilyn Monroe, long after her passing. In sum, they both set the standard for the Yankees icon, and the American icon. They very efficiently disseminated only what they wanted the public to know. A public relations clinic that many could learn a great deal.
At an early phase in his career, Jeter learned the one part of your life you can never reclaim when lost is your privacy. There is no end great enough to justify its sacrifice, and no bounty can retrieve it. A maxim he has stood fast to. Yet after 20 years, what is most astounding about what Jeter has accomplished in the realm of public relations, is that almost nobody cares about him outside of shortstop. There is seldom stigma associated with success, and there is seldom a story without stigma. Unlike the superstar that has played to Jeter's right for the last decade, Derek has only ever been associated with winning, playing the game "the right way," and making all the savvy professional decisions. In return, he is largely left alone. The Captain, the final number 2, has given every Yankees fan a treasure trove of awesome baseball memories. “The Flip Play,” “Mr. November,” and making Jeffrey Maier a household name in New York and Baltimore, respectively. Though after 20 years, we still have no idea what his actual favorite color is.
A masterful performance.
For more stories and insights on ALL things Yankees baseball, follow us on Twitter @Section_422.
No comments:
Post a Comment